


enchantress

by masqurade



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M, Fluff, basically partners being partners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 17:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6088675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masqurade/pseuds/masqurade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say that Lady Sakura of Hoshido is beautiful. She’s perfect. From the tips of her jeweled shoes to the tip of her delicate head – she is a sight to behold. And, of course, a magnificent lady such as herself can only ever be with a man that is equally impressive.</p>
<p>Someone like Subaki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	enchantress

They say that Lady Sakura of Hoshido is beautiful. She’s perfect. From the tips of her jeweled shoes to the tip of her delicate head – she is a sight to behold. And, of course, a magnificent lady such as herself can only ever be with a man that is equally impressive.

Someone like Subaki.

So _why_ in Gods name is he wasting time teasing a girl that infuriates him more than he can possibly ever hope to describe? He’s a perfect man that is more than capable of sweeping Lady Sakura off her feet. Subaki has heard the whispers, the claims, the _attention_  he gets. If he put his mind to it – opens up his heart, even – it is possible.

Instead, here he is, slaving after a woman that can probably send him flying into Nohr with a single punch if she ever feels the desire to.

“Hana, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Shut _up_ , Subaki. No one asked for your opinion.”

Leaning against the wall of the training hall, Subaki watches silently as the brunette wields her katana. Her hair whips wildly in the air as she executes her finishing blows. Her movements are fluid and, to any normal person, flawless.

However, Subaki knows better.

In a single breath, he’s in front of her, swinging down his lance at her right side. He sees her eyes widen before she goes to block him. She misses him by an inch, and he ends up smacking her across her right arm.

“What the hell, Subaki?!” Hana shrieks, backing away from him in a fluster. 

“You’re favoring your left side again,” he says. “You left yourself wide open for an attack from the right.”

Hana glares up at him, her hands clenching around the hilt of her katana so hard that her knuckles begin to turn white. She’s furious, like always, and Subaki swears he must be some sort of masochist because his hearts is singing in his chest at the sight.

“It’s _your_  fault I have trouble guarding my right side,” she says. “You’re always _there_  so I never think to swing in that direction.”

It’s true. He’s always there, fighting alongside her. Subaki doesn’t tell her, but he has trouble sometimes guarding his left side – the side that she protects from blows. However, it doesn’t make Subaki any less peeved at the accusation. 

“Right, and I suppose that if it was just you and Lady Sakura that it’d still be my fault if you can’t focus in all directions? Please, don’t insult me. It’s your own lack of training that makes you so incompetent as an attendant.”

“Oh ho! Big words coming from a guy that can’t even ride a horse.”

He doesn’t know how it happens, but they have unconsciously moved closer together. Hana is nearly inches from his face, a fistful of his shirt in her hand. It causes him to bend down, towering over her small frame. His blood is boiling, not only from the argument, but also from the proximity of his partner.

“So, ‘Mr. I’m-So-Perfect’,” she breathes, cheeks coloring. “Do I have to show your ass the door, or can you kick yourself out of here so I can train?”

“Fine,” he says, and Hana releases him, turning away to pick up her katana that somehow became discarded during their argument. Before he can say anything else, she’s already back at swinging her sword. Adjusting his grip on his lance, Subaki steps around her again, blocking her mid-air.

“I swear to the Gods, Subaki–” Hana begins.

“I’ll help,” Subaki declares, a impish grin growing on his face. “After all, it’s  _‘my fault’_ you have this weakness. Better cleanse yourself of it before it becomes a problem.”

“It’s not a weakness, and stop treating it like it’s some fucking curse!”

He can’t help but burst into laughter, moving his arm to block Hana’s next blow. He won’t admit it, but she has more technique than he can ever hope to have, and it isn’t just in the swordsmanship department. Everything about her brings him onto the brink of insanity.

She may be a samurai, but she’s a siren, an  _enchantress_ , pulling him towards love and death with every passing day.


End file.
